


Steve Rogers and the Wakandan New Year's Eve Funk

by MoonlightShines (Thatkillervibe)



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Canon Compliant, Light Angst, M/M, Natasha Is a Good Bro, New Year's Eve, Pining, Podfic Welcome, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Wakanda, artwork welcome, holiday fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-01
Updated: 2018-01-01
Packaged: 2019-02-26 00:21:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,419
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13224285
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thatkillervibe/pseuds/MoonlightShines
Summary: "Why did you wake me up from cryo?" Bucky asked wearily.“It's December 31st, 2017," said Steve.Or: The one where Natasha gives Steve a New Years resolution to have no more Barnes melodrama in 2018.





	Steve Rogers and the Wakandan New Year's Eve Funk

**Author's Note:**

> ** This isn't a crack fic!**  
> Just a quick warning, there are spoilery character descriptions for Infinity War (based off of general observations from the trailer) so if you want to stay surprised I'm sorry!!

It was only a good half hour after Bucky had, for lack of better word, _defrosted_ from the cryochamber that he asked the question. Contrary to popular belief, one cannot be simply yanked out of cryogenic stasis and be expected to just walk out functionally and coherent.

No, it's disorienting, is what it is, to be in a state of being in which there is no being. Asleep with no dreams, no consciousness, not even breathing -- and then be violently shoved out of that quietness and into the fast-paced, bright and sensational world. So even a half hour, for memories, mental and muscle, to flood back and to work a stiff jaw open to speak the right words in the right language and not feel like you've literally come back from the dead is nothing less than quite remarkable.

“Why did you wake me?”

It wasn't the first thing he said, actually. The first thing he said was more of an awed exclamation of, “It’s fuckin’ hot!” Which made T’Challa, --the king of this country who, _Jesus_ , spent money and doctors to fuss over him, he should really give that man a thank you again--smile, amused. “Yes, Mr. Barnes,” He said, “This is Africa.”

And then, he asked that question.

Steve, who was seated in front of him -- because of course he was, where else would he be? He was the first face Bucky saw when he woke up, just like he was the last face he saw when he was put under. And wow, Bucky never woke up from cryo knowing not only who he was but who he was with and felt safe with those facts. He never woke up from cryo feeling at all -- shifted his eyes away in a way that made Bucky narrow his own with suspicion.

Steve looked different. Bigger and somehow more intimidating. Maybe it was all this time spent in the jungle, or stress, or maybe Steve was just rebelling, he was starting to grow a beard and moustache and it was so startling Bucky had to prevent himself from gaping because never in a million years would he have pictured Steve looking like a rugged moody lumberjack from Canada. Either way, Steve’s macho beard wasn't about to fool him.

“It's December 31st, 2017," Steve said.

He had to have known that wasn't what he meant when he asked why he was woken up, and rolled his eyes even though he was thankful for that tidbit of information and stored it up there with other facts he managed to decipher since he awoke next to 1. Steve’s here and he looks funny and 2. It’s Fucking Hot and 3. His arm is still... armless.

“The doctors are saying they're close, Buck. You'll be out soon, for good. They're estimating by the end of February. You could even choose to stay awake until then, if you want.” Steve looked incredibly hopeful.

“What about my arm?” He couldn't help asking.

“A surgery to replace it, a new vibranium prosthesis has also been scheduled for March, after the neurologists are done, for their safety,” T’Challa said.

Bucky blinked. So there was no danger. No aliens? No new piece of legislation to form a resistance against? As if Steve read his mind, he shook his head and reached out to grab Bucky’s hand. His palm was warm and weirdly soft and Bucky sort of wish he hadn't done that.

“There's nothing wrong Buck,” he whispered, “we just thought you ought to know.”

Bucky withdrew his hand and stood up. Somehow he knew that wasn't the full truth.

“We?” Bucky echoed. “The doctors?”

“No, actually,” Steve admitted, “I did. I thought you ought to know.”

Yeah, that sounded more like it.

“Okay,” he said, then turned to the king. “Am I, uh, allowed to go outside?” He looked out the window of the bland medical room. “Your majesty,” he added, hastily.

“You are no captive. By all means, go where you please.”

“I think I'll go for a walk then.”

Steve frowned at him, seemingly hurt that Bucky didn't jump into Steve’s arms or invited him to join him. And he did want to talk to him and invite him, achingly so. But Steve was acting strange and shifty, trying to hide something from him, and wasn't making any move to fix that, and Bucky wasn't in the mood for games so he left the medic and palace and Steve behind in it.

   ~.~

“You didn't have to wake him up Captain. He explicitly requested not to be until he could be treated or there was a serious threat to you or the world that would require his presence,” T’Challa said.

“I know that,” Steve snapped, “It was a flimsy excuse. I'm terrible at lying, just ask Nat.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“I just,” Steve sat in the wicker chair overlooking Wakanda’s palace grounds, watching Bucky walk further away and into the thicket of the royal nature trail. “I don't think I like the person I become when he's not around.”

“With all due respect, Captain,” The King said, “I don't think you try very hard to be one.”

Bucky was gone into the greens of the path now. Steve wished he followed him.

~.~

Wakanda, it turned out, is big on New Years. There's a royal party downstairs and the initial plan, Steve's original thought process was to wake Bucky up, bring him to the party, watch him dance like he hasn't since the 40s and tell him just how lonely the world was without him. How glad he was that Bucky was here in this century. That he wasn't alone. There's a fine line between selflessness and selfishness and it seems to be a blurry boundary Steve crosses when it comes to Bucky. It was god awful, how beneath all of the twisted anger of justice and blinding morality there's a dark enough place that resides in Steve that is thankful for Bucky’s suffering because it brought them back together. God awful, but there.

Anyways, it was naive to assume Bucky would play along. He came back sometime early in the evening, and fell asleep without even stopping by Steve’s quarters.

The rest of the (ex) Avengers in Wakanda were preparing for the New Years Eve party and Steve was in his room sulking.

It's nearly eleven o’clock when his locked door opened by itself. Steve had long stopped being unsettled by those kind of things-- Wanda and all-- but they were bothering him today.

Natasha walked right in, wearing her shiny dress, beautiful, blonde and angry.

“I just found out Barnes is awake,” she said.

“I woke him up this afternoon.”

“Why aren't you at the party?” She questioned.

Steve shrugged.

“I am fucking tired of this crap, Rogers.”

Steve stiffened, “what _crap_ , Romanoff?”

“Nobody is telling you this straight up because you're Captain America and they are trying to respect you because they have some convoluted idea that you are older and wiser than they are but I will be the one to tell you that is a load of shit. We tried telling you quietly, but you weren't getting our hints. You are _endangering_ yourself.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“Oh, you think I’m not serious?” Natasha said with a raised brow, “You don't do anything, but when you do decide to do something it's irrational. You don't think clearly anymore, and you don't bother to take care of yourself. Grow the hell up, Rogers. This ends tonight. No more Barnes melodrama in 2018. Have I made myself clear?”

Steve felt his temper rising with every aggravating word Natasha prattled off. He glared at the floor as she ranted, she didn't know what the hell she was talking about, what was going on, the things Steve was feeling. _This doesn't concern you! This is complicated. You can't turn this into a New Year's resolution!_ he wanted to shout. And it's not just Natasha. It's T’Challa, it's Sam, Wanda and Clint, hell, it's Scott too. As if they're entitled to give Steve input on his 85 year old best friendship.

“You can go now,” Steve said instead, but when he looked up she was already well gone.

This was stupid, he realized. He woke Bucky up for a reason, and like hell he was just going to mope around wishing the day went differently.

Steve put on some decent clothes and walked across the palace to a small guest quarters that was made for Bucky when he woke up. He picked the lock the way Natasha taught him to, the way she probably just did and refused to think how hypocritical that was.

Bucky was fast asleep, breathing deeply in a cotton tank over the sheets of his bed. A window was opened, allowing for some breeze in the room. It made some of the hair Bucky had stuck to his forehead rustle and Steve was struck dumb at the sight.

Steve had visited Bucky many times in his cryochamber. The first month, it was all he could do, drag up a chair and watch him, talk to him. He was upset that Bucky chose to go back under. He fought so hard for him and it felt like they were stuck at a checkmate.

But this was completely different. The rise and fall of Bucky’s chest, his eyes in REM, he looked alive. He looked like _Bucky_.

And Steve thought he'd been dead for so long.

Steve knelt beside him and brushed the sweaty hair off his forehead.

“Buck,” he whispered, “Wake up.”

Sometimes Steve felt like they were in an elaborate repetitive story of Snow White, and he’d be eternally tasked with the duty of dislodging the poisoned apple from Bucky’s throat. He wanted to, he admitted, to whisk him away to a castle where he's safe and can live happily ever after.

Bucky blinked awake and groaned, “whasit, Steve?” He slurred, speech thick with sleep.

“it’s almost midnight on New Years Eve, Buck. You can't sleep through that.”

“The hell I can,” he grumbled, throwing his arm over his eyes. “We’re in Africa, it isn't even evening yet in New York.”

“ _Please_ , Bucky.” He hated how pleading he sounded, how desperate.

Bucky peaked at Steve from under his arm and cursed. “Yeah, okay.” He said, “But don't expect me to go downstairs to that party they're having.”

Steve shook his head, “No, I have a better idea.”

~.~

T’Challa has a private rooftop balcony on the top of his palace. Steve brought a blanket and some food and watched Bucky drink the soup broth from the thermos as the Wakandan night presented itself to them. The birds never stopped making noises and the two were acutely aware of the monkey spying on them from a tree close enough to touch the roof with every other sway of its leaves.

There was fifteen minutes until 2018. Steve knew Bucky doesn't particularly give a fuck about it, but Steve does, because it means they're so deliriously close to the end of the scrambled bleak mess of 2017.

“Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“Why did you wake me up?”

Steve sighed, and looked at him.

Because I missed you. Because I'm miserable here. Because I fucked up everything for you but I would gladly do it again and all my friends know that and silently resent me for it. Because I want them to get to know you too. Because you don't deserve to be frozen any longer. Because you have a life to live. Because I want you here with me.

“I spent too many years in the twenty first century without you. It's never happening again,” Steve's so vehement in his delivery, it sent shivers down Bucky’s spine.

“Steve, I didn't want you to,” He said, pathetically. “You don't think I know how much this hurts you? It hurts me too! I didn't want to wake up again unless I knew it was the last time.”

“But it _can_ be the last time,” Steve argued, “you heard what they said.”

“I told you over a year ago that I willingly put myself back under because it wasn't safe. Not for me, not for you, or anyone. I'm not...I'm not the Soldier anymore. I can feel, I have memories. I remember _everything_ \-- Don't risk me _losing_ that, _Christ_ , Stevie. I want a life. I can't go backwards.”

“I know, and I'm sorry for going against your wishes Buck, but I’m not sorry enough to regret it.”

“You're so stubborn, oh my god,” Bucky huffed, wrapping his only arm around him. ”But thank you,” he said, “For thinking of me like that.”

Steve swallowed and blushed, “Buck, you've gotta know. The reason why I get so out of sorts with you--”

“Please don't,” Bucky cut him off, squeezing his eyes shut.

“ _Buck_ ,” Steve choked out. 

  
Steve looked like he was a second away from crying and Bucky had to cup Steve’s face with his hand.

“Stevie, I know you do. But you know I've gotta go back under. I have to. Stevie, not until they're sure. Not until the day they're ready to operate, or the world is gonna end. I can't live with this,” he said, pointing to his brain, “It'll kill me, and trust me that'll end up killing you worse than you think this will.”

“I just want it all to be over.”

“And it will be. And when it is, I'll be the first one to say it. And then you can,” Bucky cut himself off and laughed wetly, embarrassed and still impossibly proud at the tears streaming down his face, “then you _better_ ,” he corrected, “tell me everyday.”

The Wakadan fireworks and light show display come to life as Steve lunged over the blanket and thermos, knocking down the basket of food to tackle Bucky to the ground in a hug. The monkey took its opportunity and ran with it, climbing over to snatch the basket away. Neither of them could care less.

“I’m going back to cyro as soon as I can,” Bucky whispered.

“Okay,” Steve said, paused, then, “I’ll miss you.”

He never told him those exact words last time. He should have. Nat was right, it was downright teenage _melodrama_.

“I know.”

Steve drank up the way Bucky’s eyes crinkled in delight, “Happy New Year, Buck.”

“Yeah yeah,” Bucky said rolling his eyes fondly and pushing Steve off him to sit up straight, “Back at ya, punk.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Happy New Years!


End file.
